Karen wakes up the next day with considerably more discomfort than the previous morning, but slightly less frustration. Instead of giving into her masturbatory urges and trying to give herself the orgasm William had refused her, she had taken a cold shower (okay, two), swallowed a sleeping pill, and gone to bed. Now she shuffles to the bathroom to brush her teeth, careful to avoid her own reflection, and climbs carefully into the shower. Her anus hurts and her pussy is swollen, her breasts feel tender and the back of her thighs sting where William had spanked her, yet she, Karen Roberts, is the one who feels guilty. Guilty! Karen wonders if this is a Patty Hearst-type of situation. Maybe she's empathizing with her captor... She groans as the cold spray hits her in the face and she forces herself not to think of sex or William or the unaccustomed ache between her thighs.
When Karen eventually steps out of the ice-cold shower she half-expects to see William waiting in her bedroom, or in her kitchen, or even at her car, but he's none of those places. In fact, even as she drives to work and shuts the door to her office, she finds that the dread she should expect to be feeling in this situation is conspicuously absent. Because while her body bears the reminders of yesterday's rough use, her libido has a mind of its own, and wants, well, more.
She tries to justify this yearning, to tell herself that a woman reaches her sexual peak later in life, or that perhaps this is just a phase, but the truth she's denying is that for someone so control in every aspect of her own life, it's rather freeing to give the responsibility of her orgasms to someone who clearly knows how to give them. And she wants one now. Even sitting in the air conditioned offices Karen can feel a bead of sweat trickling down her nape. But Karen is not hot; she's worried. Because yesterday when William left, he had not told her where to meet the next day. And he hasn't contacted her yet today to indicate a meeting time or place. She made a quick detour on her way in this morning to find the parking garage completely empty, and intends to catch up on paperwork all day, meaning there will be no opportunities to meet in vacant houses. So Karen is waiting.
And still waiting.
And still more.
And when she gets home shortly after seven that evening, she finds that she'll have to continue waiting, because her house is dark and empty and her phone is silent. William, it would seem, is not coming.
For William's part, he is at home replaying the events of the past two days over and over in his mind. He cannot come to terms with his feelings for nor his treatment of Karen Roberts, his lifelong fantasy. He wants her, and he knows he can get her off, no matter how she denies it. He likes to be in control and he likes to dominate, but last night as he fucked her sore ass and looked into her desperate eyes, he felt something in his chest that did not fit with his fantasies. He cannot treat a woman the way he wants to treat Karen -- cannot humiliate her and blackmail her and torment her sexually -- if he feels anything more than the blood pounding through his own veins and the painful stiffness of his cock. So William stays home. And he thinks. And he decides that he's not going to do it anymore, that he's going to return the tapes and never contact Karen again.
But in the morning he changes his mind.
Karen is sitting behind the large desk in her air conditioned office when the receptionist buzzes in that she has a visitor. Because she has no appointments scheduled for today, she is puzzled. And then she is worried. And then she is aroused. She tells the receptionist to show her visitor in, and when the door opens moments later her heart stutters when she sees William stride through.
"Good morning," she says politely, rising and extending her hand for him to shake. Before leaving the receptionist mentions that she's heading out for her break, then closes the door behind her as she goes. William does not release Karen's damp hand. She swallows thickly, the sound dissolved in the suddenly deafening silence.
With his free hand William reaches inside his brown leather jacket and pulls out a tape. He places it wordlessly on the desk, his eyes locked on Karen's. He waits, and after a long moment, she gives the slightest of nods. William drops her hand and is around the desk in two quick steps. He uses his broad chest to back Karen into the wall, his face close to hers as his calloused fingers find the hem of her skirt and bring it up over her hips. He stares into her eyes as one hot hand cups her pussy through the flimsy satin of her panties and he presses lightly with his middle finger so he's circling the tight entrance to her body.
Karen chews the inside of her lip and tries to find the will to look away, but cannot. Even as she wills herself to put an end to this she finds her cunt moistening rapidly enough that the smell soon reaches her nose. She whimpers slightly but William only continues to cup her, to penetrate her through her panties with the very tips of his fingers in a gentle, rhythmic motion.
Eventually her eyes close and her head lolls back. The action is relaxed but below the neck she is anything but calm; her body is tensed and curled in anticipation.
"Spread your legs," William whispers, breath hot against her ear. Karen shifts her legs a few more inches in either direction, thigh muscles straining. William risks a glance down at the shiny black peep-toed stilettos she wears, gaze trailing up the smooth expanse of thigh to the junction covered by his hand. He presses his palm against her more firmly, feeling the tiny bulge of her protruding clit and smirking as he elicits a groan from her.
"Did you cum yesterday?" he asks. Karen's eyes flutter open and lock on his. After a second she shakes her head.
"No?" William whispers. "How about the night before, when you went home? After I fucked your tight ass in a stranger's bed, did you go home and rub your clit and finger yourself until you exploded?"
His words match his actions and Karen's answer is lost in a strangled moan as two rough fingers sink inside her wet cunt and begin a deep, gentle fucking motion.
"Did you?" William urges. "Did you get yourself off?" His free hand joins the first between her legs, this time slipping behind the slick satin to tease her clit from its hiding place, plucking it mercilessly between his thumb and index finger.
"No," Karen hisses, feeling her inner muscles clench. She can feel the roughness of his jeans against her inner thighs, smell his leather jacket and his own male scent, feel the slight rasp of his day-old growth on her cheek when he whispers in her ear.
"How does this feel?" William prods, pressing a third digit into the drenched depths of her cunt. "Do you like this? Does it make you feel good?" His thumb settles on her clit and begins to rub firmly.
"Yes," Karen whimpers, her hips grinding against his skilled hands.
"How good?" he presses.
Karen moans as her orgasm nears. Her inner walls spasm, briefly stilling his fingers so he has to press even harder to continue to penetrate her.
"Karen?"
She humps his hand, head twisted to the side to avoid his prying gaze.
"Do you want to cum, Karen?" William asks, seizing her swollen clit in the vee of two fingers and tugging at it insistently. Karen utters a startled cry as her impending orgasm heightens, juices drenching William's hands.
"Answer me," he warns. He watches a tiny trickle of sweat slide down Karen's temple, settling below her ear. Her pearly teeth bite into her plush lower lip, creasing her lipstick, and her cheeks flush a rosy red.
William's three thick fingers fuck into her steadily, sloshing slightly in her copious juices and the entire room smells like her sex.
"Answer," he says, one last time. "Tell me you want to cum."
Karen's knees tremble as she approaches her long-awaited climax.
"Tell me!" William roars.
